


My Love, My Light

by ahopper84



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Dork Lovers Server Challenge, Dork Server Challenge, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, poly!Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84





	My Love, My Light

After years of scraping by, Queen was finally on their first real tour… sort of. They'd managed to book shows at a dozen pubs all around the UK, and another half a dozen around Ireland and Wales. Roger was on cloud nine; they weren't exactly a household name yet, but this felt like a damn good start. 

Roger sighed as he stared at the telly. The show that night had gone great, the crowd hanging on every note, every beat. His arms were just a bit sore, but in a good way. He looked at his boyfriends asleep around him, Freddie and John to his left, Brian to his right. Outside the window a storm raged, rain pelting the glass and thunder rumbling every few minutes. 

Roger glanced towards the window for a moment before staring at the tv again. His eyes started to get heavy, so he settled down between the other men, ready to get a good night's sleep; they'd be leaving early the next morning for the next night's gig, nearly a full day's drive away. As he closed his eyes he felt someone kiss his shoulder, and he smiled as he drifted off.

A crash like a gunshot woke him up with a start, heart racing and eyes wide open. _Just lightning,_ he thought, but the room was pitch black, and his pulse quickened even further. Someone had turned the telly off, he noticed with a frown. He scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping over the tangled pile of limbs surrounding him. He turned the knob… and nothing happened. He turned it again, and then a few more times. His breath hitched as his eyes darted around the room; this was bad. 

He fumbled around the back of the television, praying it had just come unplugged, but he found the cord still firmly attached to the wall. Lightning illuminated the room for a split second and he jumped, cursing. He sprinted across the room, stumbling on someone's shoes before finding the lightswitch, flipping it rapidly to no avail.

“Fuck.”

He leaned back against the wall for a second, hugging himself. He tried to make out the sleeping forms of his boyfriends, but in the murky dark his mind conjured shapes of strangers, of monsters and murderers. He whimpered as he stumbled back into bed, sitting up against the headboard. He tried closing his eyes, but his panic convinced him that made it easier for whatever horrors there were to creep up on him, and his eyes shot wide open again. 

“Rog?” came a quiet, sleep-slurred voice beside him. Brian. “Wa's wrong?”

“TV wont turn on,” Roger whispered. He hugged himself tighter, shaking a bit. “Lights aren't working either.”

“Probably just a power outage from the storm.” That was John, his tone equal parts concerned and annoyed. Roger felt a hand on his knee and he jumped. “Sh, it's just me. Roger, you're shaking like a leaf. What's got you all worked up?”

“Its stupid,” Roger mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Darling,” Freddie sighed, his voice muffled. “I'm sure it is, but it's obviously keeping you, and by extension us, awake. So come on, out with it.”

Roger bit his lip; it was something he hadn't told any of the three men he was in a relationship with; it just hadn't come up before, and he'd hoped it never would, but apparently he wasn't that lucky.

“Roger,” Broan said softly. “You can tell us. You know we love you, no matter what.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Its alright Rog,” John said, reaching for his hand. “Whatever it is, it's alright.”

“I'm afraid of the dark.” 

Suddenly all three of them moved to curl around him; Roger felt his chest tighten as his boyfriends enveloped him.

“Is that why you’re always leaving the telly on?” John asked, and Roger gave a small nod.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Brian said, stroking his hair. 

“Twenty-three years old and I'm scared of the bloody dark. Some rockstar I am. It’s pathetic.”

“Absolutely not,” Freddie protested. “I just wish you would have said something sooner.”

“Just never came up before,” Roger said, shrugging.

“I don’t like the thunder,” John admitted quietly, drawing everyone’s attention. Sure enough, just as a rumble shook the room, the youngest man trembled. “Being with you lot helps me get through it, though.”

“And we’ll help you get through this,” Brian said to Roger, the other two chorusing their agreement. 

“Just close your eyes and focus on us, love.” Freddie reached for Roger’s hand, pulling it to his lips and kissing his palm. Roger took a shaky breath and nodded, doing as he was told. He felt the bed shift as his lovers showered him with affection; Brian played with his hair and kissed his neck; Freddie kissed from his palm up his arm; John curled up in his laps, peppering his chest with kisses and nips. He loved moments like this, when they made him the center of attention.

“Love you,” he said to all three, smiling when they all echoed the sentiment. In the dark room, hands and mouths and bodies moved in a tangled, writhing pile, and Roger was able to completely forget the darkness, overwhelmed with love and desire for his mates. 

Afterwards, when they were all spent and collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, the television flickered back to life. But Roger didn’t notice, already sound asleep in his lovers’ arms.


End file.
